Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) Support Group
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Reflections (may trigger)
Alot of the abuse I got as a kid was from my dad. I remember for some reason I liked to go to the bathroom outside, not #1 but #2. One time my dad found out and grabbed me by the hair and rubbed my face in it. While doing this he would tell me if I'm going to act like a dog than I would get treated like one. After the humiliation he would make me pick it up with my mouth and hands and take it inside to flush it. Any time my dad would find out i wet the bed he would rub my face in it. I remember having problems wetting the bed alot. I wore diapers up til middle school.
When I wet or pooped my pants he would make me wear my dirty underwear on my head. He said his mom use to do the same to him and so it was considered discipline.
I was taken out of grade school and sent to a place called Childrens Home Society because the public school was tired of my behavioral problems. It was later discovered by child psyciatrists that my behavior was from abuse.
One time I was putting my pink belt around my cat for a collar, like normal kids do to their pets, my dad saw it and took it off the cat and put it around my neck and choked me with it. I was taught in school how to check to see if pet collars were too tight. when i checked with my cat, i could stick my fingers through. it was perfectly safe.
I remember my younger brother use to get the most brunt of the abuse. And I felt so helpless because I was too small to protect him.
Later on I met a guy when I was 19. He was 45. We both had a lot in common so I thought it would work. He was an alchoholic tho and a year in a half into the relationship the abuse started. He was in the services, special forces to be exact. He had a habit of using his skills out on me. I remember it ending in the bathroom one night when he smashed my head into the bathroom wall so hard I blacked out. Then he squatted down where I was laying in the tub, with a look of pure hate. This wasnt the man I fell in love with anymore. Luckily I was fed up with the abuse just in one night and I was gone.
I moved back in with my mom and decided to go back to school. So I did. I'm not pursuing that course anymore because I am now disabled due to my HS and other things but just knowing that I was able to leave when so many women put up with the abuse, that's gotta account for something.
I regularly attend mental health appointments for my PTSD where it was properly diagnosed. I am currently not on any prescriptions.
I have tried suicide 3 times but am still here. Now I have thoughts of it but they arent frequent. I normally do not believe in suicide.
There is alot more to the story but my writing is spent for the day.
Thanks for listening.
Alot of the abuse I got as a kid was from my dad. I remember for some reason I liked to go to the bathroom outside, not #1 but #2. One time my dad found out and grabbed me by the hair and rubbed my face in it. While doing this he would tell me if I'm going to act like a dog than I would get treated like one. After the humiliation he would make me pick it up with my mouth and hands and take it inside to flush it. Any time my dad would find out i wet the bed he would rub my face in it. I remember having problems wetting the bed alot. I wore diapers up til middle school.
When I wet or pooped my pants he would make me wear my dirty underwear on my head. He said his mom use to do the same to him and so it was considered discipline.
I was taken out of grade school and sent to a place called Childrens Home Society because the public school was tired of my behavioral problems. It was later discovered by child psyciatrists that my behavior was from abuse.
One time I was putting my pink belt around my cat for a collar, like normal kids do to their pets, my dad saw it and took it off the cat and put it around my neck and choked me with it. I was taught in school how to check to see if pet collars were too tight. when i checked with my cat, i could stick my fingers through. it was perfectly safe.
I remember my younger brother use to get the most brunt of the abuse. And I felt so helpless because I was too small to protect him.
Later on I met a guy when I was 19. He was 45. We both had a lot in common so I thought it would work. He was an alchoholic tho and a year in a half into the relationship the abuse started. He was in the services, special forces to be exact. He had a habit of using his skills out on me. I remember it ending in the bathroom one night when he smashed my head into the bathroom wall so hard I blacked out. Then he squatted down where I was laying in the tub, with a look of pure hate. This wasnt the man I fell in love with anymore. Luckily I was fed up with the abuse just in one night and I was gone.
I moved back in with my mom and decided to go back to school. So I did. I'm not pursuing that course anymore because I am now disabled due to my HS and other things but just knowing that I was able to leave when so many women put up with the abuse, that's gotta account for something.
I regularly attend mental health appointments for my PTSD where it was properly diagnosed. I am currently not on any prescriptions.
I have tried suicide 3 times but am still here. Now I have thoughts of it but they arent frequent. I normally do not believe in suicide.
There is alot more to the story but my writing is spent for the day.
Thanks for listening.
It sounds like you're on the right track by going to therapy. It will take some time but i hope that you can work through this in order to have a better life. All we can do is take one day at a time.